


Like Butter

by HoneyyDaisyy



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyyDaisyy/pseuds/HoneyyDaisyy
Summary: *Old story*A man with a bag over his head walks up to youWarnings:- a bit disturbing- hints of suicide





	Like Butter

Staring at my phone and walking, I suddenly stop in my tracks when I see a pair of black dirty shoes in my way. I slowly look up, seeing the shoes accompanied by long legs with light jeans, a black shirt with a loose dark red hoodie, and a brown paper bag with holes for eyes. I stare at the person in confusion, backing up and trying to go around them.  
But they move in my way, putting up a hand with black and red knitted gloves.

I shove my phone in my pocket and raise a brow, staring into the holes “What? What do you want from me?”  
They look down at their hoodie, reaching into their pocket. I flinch back and gasp, seeing something shiny and expecting a sharp kitchen knife that they would stab me with. But instead it was a butter knife.  
They turn the knife to make the sharp end face them and extends it to me. I furrow my eyebrows, confused on what they were doing. I slowly grab the handle of the knife and slide it off their gloves.

“A butter knife? What am I supposed to do with it, it’s not like I have any butter or toast” I chuckled nervously, a bit uneasy of the person in front of me.  
They raise their glove, pointing at the knife, and then patting their chest twice.

“What?” I ask, pointing it to them “what’s up with you?”  
The person responds by walking towards me, the knife beginning to press against them. I pull the knife back hastily, my eyes wide. I drop the knife, raising my hands in defense.  
“Ok, I’m uncomfortable. I’m leaving” I state, walking around the person.  
The knife clatters, swaying side to side as the person stood there. Then they turn, watching me walk away. They pick the knife back up and shove it in their hoodies pocket.  
Then they begin to walk the same way as me.  
I look back, seeing the person with the bag over their head following me.  
I fasten my pace, feeling a sense of fear run over my body. I stare at the person to see them walking faster also.

I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone, walking even faster. I pull up the phone app and start dialing 9-1-1. As I was about to press call, I felt my jacket get pulled suddenly.  
I let out a scream as a car drives right past me. I stumble back to feel a person right behind me. I already knew who it was, looking back to see the person with the bag over their head.  
I push them off of me “leave me alone!! Or I’m calling the,” I start looking at my hand to realize my phone wasn’t there anymore “,the uh… police.” I turn to see my phone cracked on the street.  
“Come on!” I cry, going to my shattered phone “I can’t believe this!”  
I turn to glare at the person with the bag over their head, gritting my teeth “this is all your fault! If you left me alone, I’d still have a phone! If you left me alone, I wouldn’t have almost gotten run over by a car! If you left me alone, my day wouldn’t have been ruined!!”  
I stomp towards the person and rip the bag off their head. I go quiet, my eyes taking in and processing what I was looking at. My mind felt like it was malfunctioning as I continued to stare, the layers of my brains giving off millions of thoughts that couldn’t quite give the answer of what I was witnessing.  
The person began to speak, making me stare at one of the things on their face that was moving and assume it was a mouth.  
“Take the knife I have in my pocket and spread me across the ground. Let my body break apart and melt till I can no longer breath. Please, just help me do this, please, I don’t wanna do this alone, please, I’m scared, please, please, please,please-”  
I slowly put the bag back on their head, making them go silent. They stand their, staring at me motionless. I turn my heel and walk into the busy streets, leaving the person with the bag over their head alone on the curb.


End file.
